Chapter 9 Only Seven Years Older, Not Seventy Chapter 9 Only Seven Years Older, Not Seventy Violet wore a crisp white blouse that day, tucked neatly into light blue jeans, accentuating her perfect waistline. On regular workdays, she kept it casual, but for court or client meetings, she'd dress more formally. Led by the waiter, she stopped at a tea room on the second floor. As expected of Wayne, already into tea at his age. She muttered to herself, then gently pushed open the door to the private room. "Mr. Braxton." As soon as she spoke, Violet realized only Wayne was there. Wayne wore a black dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, a stark contrast to the buttoned-up version of him from yesterday. His brow arched slightly, his voice low. "Sit." "Like some tea?" Violet gave a half-hearted nod; coffee was her true love, and tea? Not so much. Wayne's tone carried a casual drawl, his rolled-up sleeves revealing toned forearms. "Violet, it's been five years. How'd you get so shy?" Violet felt a twinge of embarrassment. Was he teasing her about that bold confession at sixteen? Her throat tightened, eyes glued to the teacup in her hands. "Nah, Mr. Braxton, I've always been pretty reserved." Seeing her too nervous to look up, Wayne chuckled softly, "Relax, I'm not gonna bite." Violet's eyes shot up, meeting his deep gaze, her heart suddenly racing in her chest. "Gavin mentioned you two were getting your marriage license soon?" Wayne glanced at her. "He back from his trip yet?" Violet's mood dampened. "Probably back by now, I guess?" Wayne's fingers paused mid-pour. "Violet, if Gavin ever gives you trouble, you tell me, alright?" Violet's nose stung with emotion. It'd been a long time since anyone said something like that to her. "Yeah, thanks." They chatted lightly for a bit until Violet glanced at the time. "Mr. Braxton, I've got work at two. Gotta head back to the law firm." She stood to leave, but Wayne's warm hand briefly clasped her wrist before letting go. "Hold up, let's add each other on WhatsApp. Easier for you to tattle to me whenever." Violet glanced at her wrist where he'd touched her, the brief contact feeling like a burn. It was just a second, but a jolt shot through her, slowing her thoughts. "Violet?" Wayne held out his phone with his QR code, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Chapter 9 Only Seven Years Older, Not Seventy After she scanned it. Wayne pocketed his phone. "I'm only seven years older than you, not seventy." Was he annoyed because she was too formal and distant with him? Realizing this, Violet's ears burned a beat too late. She cursed inwardly-Wayne always made her feel like a mouse cornered by a cat. "Added you, Mr. Braxton. I'm heading out." Back in her car, Violet let out a breath, unlocking her phone to check Wayne's profile picture. It was a purple starry sky. Not old, huh? Her dad was pushing fifty and didn't use such old-school profile pics. As she was about to exit, she saw "typing..." from Wayne's side and tossed her phone aside. Just added him-did they really need to chat more? A minute later, she cautiously picked up her phone and saw a notification: a payment. Clicking Wayne's profile again, she saw he'd sent her $800 with a note: [Maintenance costs]. Violet couldn't shake the feeling that the note was oddly suggestive. She typed back: [No need, Mr. Braxton, the repairs don't cost that much.] His reply was curt: [Take it.] Well, if he was throwing money around, Violet wasn't about to argue. She accepted it. It was Wayne's first proper family dinner since returning, and Byron made a big deal of it. Everyone showed up except his granddaughter. Nathan raised his glass. "Here's to you, Wayne, welcome back!" Wayne clinked his glass lightly. "Thanks, Nathan." Despite outside rumors, the two Braxton brothers always got along well. Luna stuck dose to Gavin, as always, like a clingy little sister. Gavin doted on her, and the family seemed used to their closeness. But to Wayne, it was an eyesore. "Gavin, you and Violet got your license yet?" Wayne asked out of the blue, catching Gavin off guard. Gavin coughed lightly. "We were supposed to go today, but Violet's on a business trip. We'll do it as soon as she's back." Byron's face darkened. "Get it done soon. The wedding's coming up-how does it look without a license?" Luna's fingers tightened around her fork, her knuckles whitening. Gavin caught it and felt a pang, But he knew it was time to get the license. "Got it, Grandpa. By Friday at the latest. Violet should be back by then." Wayne shot him a cold, scrutinizing look. "Violet's on a trip? Funny, I saw her at the tea house this afternoon." Chapter 9 Only Seven Years Older, Not Seventy His words hit Gavin like a slap, leaving him visibly embarrassed. Byron slammed his fork down. "Gavin, what's going on?" Gavin's face darkened "Grandpa, 111 call Violet later." "Hmph. Violet's my chosen wife for you. You mess this up, and you'll answer to me!" That dinner left a bad taste in Gavin's mouth. He was distracted, barely responding to Luna's chatter. Something about Violet's recent behavior was making him uneasy. In their relationship, Gavin always thought he held the reins. But now, his once-compliant girlfriend felt... out of his control. "Gavin, you driving me home?" Luna asked. Before he could answer, Wayne cut in smoothly. "Luna, where are you living these days? I can give you a ride." Luna pursed her lips. Wayne had never been particularly warm to her before. Thanks, Uncle, but I'll have my driver drive me." Wayne's lips curved faintly. "Suit yourself." Gavin barely registered the exchange, his mind fixed on getting back to Harborview Heights to confront Violet. Gavin stormed into the villa, his voice sharp. "Where's Violet?" Margaret flinched, shaking her head. "She's on a business trip, sir." Gavin's brow furrowed. "She told you she was on a trip?" "No, but she was dragging a suitcase..." A suitcase meant a trip, right? Wait-no. Violet had said she was moving out. Gavin's expression shifted. He bolted upstairs. Her usual guest room was empty, like no one had ever lived there. In her doset, his pulse spiked-empty. Panic crept in, a sense of things spiraling out of control. Back in his own bedroom, he noticed half his dothes were gone. He yanked open the tie drawer-every tie Violet had given him was missing. Heart pounding, Gavin stormed into the master bedroom, their would be marital suite. The massive engagement photo Violet had insisted on taking was gone. Standing on the balcony, Gavin dialed her number. Each ring felt like an eternity. Chapter 9 Only Seven Years Older, Not Seventy Finally, at the last ring, she picked up. "Violet, why's your closet empty?" "And the clothes you gave me? You took those too?" "And why didn't you show up to get our license if you're not on a trip?" Violet's laugh was sharp, like she'd heard the funniest joke. "And you, Gavin? Did you show up at the city hall?" Gavin's breath caught. "Dont dodge the question!" "Violet, there's a limit to throwing tantrums. I said we'd get the license, so why are you still making a scene?" "And I told you, Gavin, we're done." Gavin sidestepped that. "Where's our engagement photo?" Done? Ha, who broke up and sneaked off with an engagement photo? Violet, browsing condos at a real estate office, answered casually, "Oh, I didn't take it." "Then where is it?" "Check your drawer." A sinking feeling hit Gavin. He rushed to the master bedroom and yanked open the nightstand drawer. A pile of torn-up photo pieces stared back at him, his eyes blazing with disbelief. "Violet, you-" Gavin's body shook with rage. "Mad? What's there to be mad about? You should've been ready for this the moment you bailed on our license." Violet stood in the real estate office's lobby, catching her reflection in the glass window, her smile cold. "Gavin, we're long past fixing this." (2) (0)